


Unwilling Participents.

by IdMakeAPunButAllTheGoodOnesWereEaten (WriteItRight2)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Getting in Deep - Fandom, vore - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But very intense so be careful, Death - mention, Endosoma, Even while they dont like vore, G/T, Giant/Tiny, Hurt/Comfort, I am so Embaressed by this but my beta conviced me, M/M, Macro/Micro, Morbid Humor, No one dies or is even in real danger, Non-Sexual, So be safe, Soft Vore, Sokka And Zuko Are Both Adults, Some more aus too if I ever continue this, Vore, but They Do Not Know That, modern day AU, safe vore, so it gets real dark at times, this is basically a fusion with getting in deep, unwilling pred, unwilling prey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteItRight2/pseuds/IdMakeAPunButAllTheGoodOnesWereEaten
Summary: "It has to be the most bizarre thing that’s ever happened to him, and.There is just an entire living person in his mouth, who he can feel breathing in and out, can make out every detail of, an entire person who is completely helpless and there isn’t anything he can do about it but try not to make things worse. "OR: After being caught during an attempted raid of an illegal facility, two friends and coworkers get a first-hand experience of just what they're been working on here.
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 56





	Unwilling Participents.

**Author's Note:**

> I used names from a kids cartoon because I'm too tired to make up new ones, but if I ever expanded it I would change them. If you found this looking for fanfiction about that cartoon I'm so sorry.
> 
> There's probably at least three complete tone whiplashes, but I wrote straight over the last three days, mostly at night, to get this out in time for today and I'm too tired to try and smooth anything out. Please tell me if there's anything wrong but like. Politely.
> 
> Please also tell me if I need to change the rating. Not good at judging stuff like that.
> 
> EDIT: My beta convinced me to cop to that fact that yes, I did write atla vore, so here we are. Have fun. I'll add the tags to the deviantart version at... some point. its midnight. im dumb and impatiant.

When he first wakes up, he is already tied to a chair. His arms are secured, along with his legs, and there’s even ropes around his thighs, stomach, and ribs, keeping him almost completely restrained. The only thing he can move is his head. Even then, his mouth is oddly numb and hard to control. 

There’s a woman in the room with him, standing at a table at the far wall and working on something. His head’s still foggy with sleep, and possibly whatever drug made him fall asleep, but he manages to slur out “What… What is this?”

The woman looks over at this, and replies with a frighteningly unhelpful “Oh! You’re awake!” While grinning a highly unfriendly grin. She rolls another smaller table over to him, which holds two boxes, one small and black, and the other some plastic cube with air-holes that he can’t see the contents of. 

There’s also some bizarre metal contraption made of far too much wire, whose purpose he couldn’t begin to make a guess at. He doesn’t have much time to, however, before she takes the contraption, and attaches it to part of the chair around him. He can’t do much more than bare his teeth at her, still feeling too uncoordinated to even try and bit her. 

“I was going to do this while you were asleep, but it looks like I waited a little too long. No matter!” She says, almost to herself. 

“Do… what?” He gets out, before she snaps something in place, forcing the contraption into his mouth, and straps around his forehead and chin. 

“This!” She says, grinning. He tries to get it out, but she manages to work around his struggles and get the bars into his mouth, using them to spread his jaws apart and force his mouth open. She gets the smaller case then, opening it. First, she gets a needle and a jar of some liquid, carefully draws some amount into the needle, and deftly flicks it for whatever reason people flick needles. She then takes his arm and, before his slowed mind has the chance to put two and two together, stabs him with it, injecting the presumed drug. 

He makes a noise around the metal that only barely sounds like ‘what was that?’ but she either still understands it, or just wants to talk, because she grins at him saying “That! Was an anti-nausea drug, basically. Very strong stuff, should completely keep you from throwing up for the next, oh, 24 hours or so, that should be enough.” 

He tries to get out a ‘why?’ but she pays no mind to him, disposing of the needle and getting out some kind of spray. 

“This,” she says, holding it up, “Is much milder, just a weak anesthetic to help keep down your gag reflex. Much less potent.” And then she reaches into his mouth, pushes past his tongue, and sprays it at the back of his throat.

“There we go! It will be a bit before it kicks in, but until then…” And then she gets something from the plastic cube, along with a wooden tongue depressor. Zuko isn’t sure what to expect, but he doesn’t think in any world that he would have guessed that it would be Sokka, tiny and limp. 

He knew that this organization had been working on shrinking technology, but this was light-years ahead of anything they had imagined could come from it. 

When she gets close, Zuko could see the tiny chest rising and falling with breathing. This releases a tension he hadn’t even realized he had but which leaves plenty in its place for him to focus on. 

She brings both Sokka and the wooden depressor closer to his mouth, making it clear what she plans to do. He pushes his tongue to the front of his mouth, blocking it as best as he could when he can’t close it, but she just tuts at him and uses the wooden depressor to push his tongue down.

Still holding his tongue down, she holds Sokka – surprisingly gentle, for what she’s about to do, and reaches to place him in Zuko’s mouth. Humming to herself, she’s hardly stopped by Zuko’s attempts to get away, or close his mouth, or _something,_ and within moments Sokka is just... Sitting there. On his tongue.

While his foggy brain is trying to process _that_ impossible thought, she reverses something on the same contraption keeping his mouth open, now forcing it closed. She removes the metal pieces that were keeping his jaw open, leaving in just far enough to keep his lips parted, and adjusts the straps until his teeth are just barely closed, not tight, but closed enough that there’s no way he could force Sokka out. The wooden stick is still in his mouth, and his teeth are touching it, but she is still able to take it out, now that its job of holding his tongue still is over.

When she removes it, it is the first time that he can fully feel Sokka on his tongue. 

Oh goodness, there is now just an entire living person in his mouth, sitting on his tongue, breathing in and out, and wow is he not okay. His heart rate picks up, and he makes a low keening sound at her, the only thing he can do to express his displeasure at this. She doesn’t react to this, just keeps humming and takes a piece of tape, of all things, out of her case and puts it over his mouth, sealing his lips shut and keeping him from being able to make any sounds that don’t come from deep in his throat.

She leaves him to get back to her table, then, and he is left trying to understand what he’s feeling. Zuko can make out far too many details, can feel his hands splayed out and lax, can make out the shape of his body past the texture of his clothes. As the saliva in his mouth seeps in, he can even taste Sokka, somewhat, making out the taste of salt and sweat. 

It has to be the most bizarre thing that’s ever happened to him, and.

There is just an entire living person in his mouth, who he can feel breathing in and out, can make out every detail of, an entire person who is completely helpless and there isn’t anything he can do about it but try not to make things worse. 

He’s worried – scared, really – of what she might do next, but focuses on Sokka, instead, and keeping him as safe as he can. He has his jaw open as far as he can, pressing it against the strap keeping it closed, and is carefully keeping Sokka in the front of his mouth while using his tongue to try and block off the entrance to his throat. That is the absolute last place he wants Sokka to end up. 

Saliva also keeps pooling, and each time it gets too deep for Zuko’s comfort, he awkwardly pushes Sokka to the top of his mouth, tilts his head back as far as he can in the brace, and swallows the spit.  
After some unknown amount of time of repeating this procedure, he starts to feel Sokka wake up. 

If the feeling of someone just laying still on his tongue was weird, then the feeling of someone moving around in his mouth is even more so. 

At first it's just twitching, and then Sokka rolls a bit, pulling his arms towards his body, and then it's clear that he's awake from how unnaturally still and stiff he goes.   
  
The woman, who either has some unnatural sixth sense or is otherwise just very good at deciphering facial expressions, walks back over to him excitedly. 'He's awake!!!!!' she writes with pen and paper and holding up to him, for some reason that he doesn’t try to decipher. 

Zuko, however, pays little attention to this, instead focusing on Sokka in his mouth. 

It's clear that Sokka has now woken up and is aware that something is wrong, even if he doesn't know what it is, and Zuko makes a soft low sound in his throat, trying to express some concept. He’s not sure what it is, but it might be _I’m here._

Sokka, in return, slowly – and carefully, considering the amount of sticky fluid and the unusual texture of the surface he was laying on – pushes himself into a sitting position. "Hello?" he calls out, but without Zuko seeing, the woman has, of all things, gotten a blade, and now holds it to his throat. 

She’s holding a finger to her lips in the universal gesture of ‘Quiet!’ her mad grin made far worse by the blade this feral woman is pressing ever so lightly to his neck. 

This entire situation was already bad enough, did she really have to add sharp things in.

They sit there in tense silence, Zuko’s heart racing, as Sokka sits up, then starts feeling around Zuko's mouth. 

Feet braced against his gums, tiny hands on his teeth, on the roof of his mouth, and then Sokka tries to stand up. He's stopped by how small it is, even for him, in this space, his head bumping into Zuko’s palate. Zuko can all-too-clearly hear his muttered "Where am I?" before carefully walking around the area he can in a crouch. 

He pauses for a moment, maybe looking at something, maybe thinking, maybe doing who knows what because Zuko sure doesn’t know anything, at this point, then tries to explore the rest of the area – to get closer to the back of Zuko's mouth – and Zuko carefully uses his tongue to push him back to the front of his mouth, trying to keep him safe. 

Sokka made a startled sound, one that was vaguely afraid. Great. "Ok, Sokka, you are just fine, because there is no way that you actually are where you think you are." He says, and then a quieter, "Everything is absolutely _fine_ "

It was kinda obvious to Zuko that he wasn't fine. Zuko wasn’t fine either. They were scared, both of them, Sokka because he didn’t know where he was and Zuko because he _did_. Zuko wanted him somewhere else, somewhere safe, but there was nothing he could do. They were scared, and there was nothing he could do.   
  
As the saliva kept slowly filling his mouth, Sokka, standing very still, said a very careful "Hello?" 

This time, expecting an answer.  
  
The woman chooses this moment to act.  
  
~~~  
  
Sokka wakes slowly, mind still in a half-awake daze as he slowly rolls over on the unfairly soft bed, a loud thumping and whooshing sound around him.

As he wakes up more, the memories of what he had been doing and where he had been come back.

He freezes. 

As far as he could remember, he was still in enemy territory, and this... this was not his bed. For one, it was far, far too wet. Beyond that, the entire place was hot, humid, and, as he carefully opens his eyes, pitch black. The ground under him, as well, is bizarrely bumpy and leathery, yet extremely soft and pliant. Not normal bed setup. 

He hears a low sound after a moment, which wavers, and is both soft and loud. It sounds, perhaps, gentle. 

He very carefully pushes himself up, working hard to not sink into the soft floor too much, or fall deeper into the small pool of fluid at the bottom of the angled floor he's laying on. His wrist sink deep in, and he has to brace himself with his feet, but he manages to sit up. "Hello?" He calls out, not sure where the sound came from or if there's anyone around to hear him. 

He's not even sure where he is. 

There's an idea forming in the back of his mind, based on what he knows about this organization and foggy memories that might have been dreams. He _really_ doesn't like the shape of it, so he resolutely ignores it while he explores. 

At the front of the room he's in, he reaches out and feels two rows of... something, one on the bottom and a slightly farther one on the top, all of them very smooth and each one almost twice the size of his hand on just this side alone. 

_They feel like giant teeth_ a voice in his head says, and he firmly tells said voice to shut up. 

He reaches his hands up and finds a very ridged, bumpy surface serving as his ceiling, which is made of some smooth surface which has just the slightest amount of give to it. He tries to stand up, but can only do so partially, ending up in an awkward crouch instead. 

"Where am I?" he mutters to himself, not wanting to believe the idea brewing in his mind. 

He makes his way around as best he can, feeling every crevice for some escape, or even just some instructions of something. 

The front and side walls of this place are all made of the same smooth blocks, curving around like one joint piece. The back wall, however, is instead also the floor, curving up to the ceiling. Where it would meet the roof, he can feel a gap. He pauses, considers trying to push through it, and decides to go for it.

He had barely gotten his hand through the gap, however, when the floor beneath him moved to push him gently, ever so gently, towards the front again.   
  
He can't stop the sound that comes out of him at the ground moving, when it had been so consistently still before.   
  
"Ok, Sokka, you are just fine, because there is no way that you actually are where you think you are. Everything is absolutely _fine_." He said, out loud, trying to convince himself, but he just got quieter as he said it, almost whispering the last words. 

His first idea, the one that he had yet to actually find any proof against, was looking to be extremely likely. 

Which meant he was standing on a tongue, next to a wall of teeth, thigh-deep in drool, because he was in a mouth. Oh goodness he was in a mouth. Which probably belonged to a person, those looked like people teeth, _he was in a person's mouth._

And one who knew he was here.  
  
He stood very still, drew back all his fear, and said, very carefully, but very expectantly, "Hello?"  
  
And that was when everything went wrong.   
  
~~~  
  
Sokka may have tried to talk with him, but Zuko could hardly dare make a sound. The spit had filled his mouth, and he needed to do something. With the woman and her blade so close, he didn’t dare swallow, so he carefully, without showing on his face what he was doing, relaxed his tongue a bit, so that the saliva was under it, and his tongue was still closing his throat in the back, but the space was much more horizontal, and much less full of water. 

Despite his efforts, she still seemed to know somehow, because in one smooth motion she takes away the blade with one hand, and forcefully pushes at his forehead to tilt his head back, forcing a yelp out of both him and Sokka.

Sokka is sent into the back of his mouth, past his tongue and almost into his throat. Zuko tries to cough him out, and Sokka is frantically scrambling to try and get out as well, but the woman keeps his head tilted back, putting a hand over his nose as well. 

After only a few moments, part of Sokka is in his throat, and it only takes a few moments longer for his body to take over, reflexively swallowing to try and clear the blockage. After one swallow Sokka is in his throat up to his waist. The second swallows his head, and the third brings his arms in and clears his airway enough for some air to pass. Sokka is slowly and painfully moving down, flailing and kicking, screaming and fighting to get out, for all the good it does.

The woman takes her hands off of him now, but he just makes a low keening sound. 

He’s barely taken a breath when he starts trying to throw up.   
  
~~~  
  
Sokka has been standing still, near the back of the area he could reach, when the entire world around him moves, the floor (tongue) moving up, pressing him closer to the ceiling by a bit, but also making the chamber longer and removing the puddle on the floor. He gives a small yelp at this, hands on the ceiling to steady himself, but then the world jerks, everything tilting faster than he can make sense of, and he’s slipping past the back of the tongue, his feet in what is almost certainly a throat. 

The next few moments are a blur, as he tries to scramble out but can’t get purchase, as he slips further down and then there’s a gulp, and there’s hot, wet muscle pressing on him up to his waist, and he starts yelling, but another pulls him in up to his head, smothering him, his arms flailing as another forces him in completely. He’s moving, he thinks, as he struggles to try and get out, the flesh crushing him and pulling him down, slowly and with force. 

He wants to get out, he _needs_ to get out, but nothing he does stops the slow, crawling pace of his decent. The flesh around him convulses constantly, barely working to move him down, a keening sound echoing all around constantly, but it all continues on.

It feels like he's fighting in this tight hot tube forever, the only noticeable event being when he gets even more compressed for some unknown amount of time, the fast-paced thumping getting even louder as he passes by his captor’s heart, beating just as fast as his own. 

It’s a blur, a terrible, terror-colored blur of fighting for his life, but eventually, he finds himself sliding into a larger cavern. He knows where he is, knows what this means for him, but he’s spent, so completely and utterly from fighting so long and so hard and so pointlessly, and just collapses where he lands, only barely having the presence of mind to try and avoid some of the liquid surrounding him. He probably whimpers a bit, at this point, but he’s too tired to be feel anything about it. 

As he lies there, he can hear the body around him keening, retching with muscles quivering, and some part of him processes that it seems that they don’t want him here any more than he wants to be here, but he’s too tired to feel anything about that either.

~~~  
  
Zuko tries, he tries so many times to throw Sokka back up, even while Sokka is still in his throat. 

It's one of the most terrible things he's ever felt, with how long it takes, with how sometimes Sokka would stop, get stuck in place, and Zuko would think that it might be working, only for Sokka to keep moving down again, with how he can feel Sokka, deep inside his chest, can hear him scream and yell, trying to get out, and he's trying to get him out too, doesn't want Sokka to die here, doesn't want to be the cause of death and final resting place to his best friend. 

After an eternity of painful and futile struggles on both their parts, Sokka ends up in his stomach, and he can feel that too, can feel this heavy and living being deep inside him. 

The parts of him that aren't just desperately trying to throw up expect him to continue to fight and kick in his stomach, too, and he wouldn't blame Sokka – Zuko doesn't want him there any more than he does – but instead he just collapses, a shaking lump at the bottom of his stomach. 

He continues to try and throw up for the next few minutes, leaning forwards the few inches that the ropes grant him, continuing to make deep-seated keening sounds, the only thing he has to show that he doesn't want this, that this is bad!  
  
He thinks that, at some point, he starts crying, but between the keening and trying to get Sokka _out_ , simple tears are hardly noticed. 

When he finally gives up – or, takes a break, but even as he tries to convince himself that there's some way out of this, part of him can’t help but feel that it's hopeless – he just sits there, shuddering and crying, almost silent. What else is there to do? His mouth is still taped shut, he can't speak, can't throw up, and he's tied so tightly to the chair that he can only move his head, and even then only just. 

The woman leaves then, when she sees him accept that in some part of him, leaves him alone but for his friend sitting in his gut, waiting for his death, leaves him helpless to save his friend from himself. _I'm sorry, Sokka, I'm so sorry_ he thinks.  
  
There is nothing he can do now, and it is the worst feeling he has ever known.   
  
~~~  
  
Slowly, Sokka recovers from a shaking pile on the floor of this place – a _stomach_ \- and gets some energy back.   
  
As he does so, however, he listens to what's around him. He can hear the heartbeat of his captor, yes, and also the breathing, but the much louder sound is the person's keening wail, and the terrible retching sounds that continue to not do anything in the way of actually getting him out of here. 

Whoever this person is, their heartbeat is going crazy, and their breathing doesn't seem much better. 

He thinks they might be crying, too.   
  
There is some sort of hollow comfort in the thought that, whosever's body's going to kill him, at least the person it belongs to doesn't want him to die. At least, maybe, he'll be remembered.   
  
These thoughts are more morbid than what he might normally have, but hey! 

He's laying the bed of his own demise! 

He's listening to a person desperately trying to puke to save him, and honestly he's not sure why it's not working but from how much the muscles around him are convulsing he highly doubts it's faked! 

This is an all-around, consistently terrible situation! He thinks he's allowed to be a little morbid.   
  
Around the time that the person slows, and then stops trying to throw up, he feels enough like an actual person to try and explore around him. He might be dead in the next hour, but this is an unprecedented chance, and his natural curiosity means he very much wants to learn as much as he can, even if he'll never get the chance to share the knowledge. He'll have it, and isn't that the point of knowledge?  
  
He may be stress-spiraling.  
  
The point is, he stands up and starts walking around, carefully, this small space that will be that last thing he ever knows.  
  
Wow that got dark.  
  
The point, however, is that the person stops keening, when he moves. Maybe he should have expected it but it’s a very weird and sudden concept that this person can _feel_ him in here. He’s not sure how he feels about that.  
  
"Oh. Can, uh, can you hear me?" He states into the wet void, feeling kinda silly but then they give a choked laugh, the first sound they've made that isn't some form of extreme distress, and ok. 

Comedy. 

He can do comedy.  
  
He divorces the thought that this is the person that he is going to die inside of, and marries the concept that this is a person who is going to see him die, so to speak, without being able to do anything about it, and sets himself up mentally to comfort them about his own impending death.   
  
After all, it’s not like he has to live with the trauma of it; they will.

“Hey, what’s black and white and red all over?” Which, wow, terrible and over-used, but. “A sunburned zebra!” and the unknown person gives another wet laugh, and their breathing is still shaky, their heart is still beating like crazy, but it’s a little calmer, a little slower. 

Operation Calm This Person Down, step one, complete. 

He makes a few more jokes, just as terrible as the first, whatever dumb stuff he can think of from old joke books. Each time, the person gives another choked laugh, and their heart slows a little more, their breathing steadies a little more. 

Eventually, they almost sound like a normal person. Their heart is still beating a little fast, but Sokka can’t blame them. His is too. Their breathing has also settled, but it still has these quiet hitches, from time to time, that makes him think that this person is still crying, just a lot less violently. 

He’s paced around a bit, while talking, and has been feeling his way around his enclosure. Slowly, his eyes seem to have gotten used to even the very low amount of light in here, and he can just barely make out his surroundings. It’s kind of like sitting in a large, wet, bag, because the floor just curves up, into the walls, and then the ceiling. 

It’s wet, all of it, with some fluid pooling at the bottom, and thicker fluid coating the walls. By and far, it is very wet. 

Moist. 

Damp. 

He never thought he’d need more words for wet but well, here he is. 

He's paused for a moment, looking at a place where something about the flesh seems different when the body around him gives another shudder, and it’s clear that the person has started crying again. The shudder throws him off-balance, and he puts his hands on the closest wall to brace himself. 

The person shudders again, still crying, and lacking any other ideas, Sokka starts rubbing at the wall in a circular motion, trying to calm them down. “Hey.” He says forcefully, but gently. “Hey. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay, both of us, got it?” Who cares if it’s true, they both need to hear it. 

They calm down a little, again, but not nearly as much as before. He keeps rubbing, not sure what to do, but then gets an idea.

“Hey, let’s play 20 Questions. Sort of a meet-and-greet, you know?” They make a vague, confused sound, but it’s not crying, so that’s a win.

“Let’s see… Uh, guy or girl, or other, but you can only give yes or no’s so… Are you a guy?” He asks, and gets a quiet affirmative sound. 

“Cool.” He says, a small smile on his face, rather glad for the distraction of this himself. “Oh. I’m Sokka. Also a guy.” He doesn’t expect the person to then make another affirmative sound at this, a wordless _I know_ , but they do.

“Wait. Did… do you know me?” He asks, not sure what he expects, but not surprised by the _mh-hm_ , or, honestly, the relief in it. He runs a hand through his hair, not caring about the liquid on his hand. It’s not like his hair is any drier. 

“Well then. I… Do I know you?” And the person gives another affirmative sound, and it sounds nervous and relieved and hopeful all in one.

Who could be here that would know him?

“Okay. So, then. Were you part of the investigative party?” He asks, an affirmative in response. He sits down now, coming at this like a puzzle, something to solve. It calms him to have something else to focus on. 

He thinks over everyone on the party, and everything that’s happened since he got here, and the pieces slowly come together into a shape that he’s not sure how he feels about. On one hand, there’s something comforting about being with his best friend when he dies. On the other, it’s one thing to traumatize a stranger terribly. It’s another to traumatize one of his closest friends.

“I… Zuko?” And the person - _Zuko_ \- makes a shuddery sound, a hummed _mhm,_ and it sounds relived, it sounds like Zuko is crying again, but maybe this time from relief instead of terror. Sokka leans back a little.

“Oh.”

~~~

Zuko tries, he tries again and again, but no matter what, nothing he does can get Sokka out. Slowly, he stops trying at all, and just sits there, useless, crying, as his best friend sits in his impending doom. He’s not even sure if Sokka is alright, is maybe about to try and do something when Sokka stands up and – 

He can feel it. He can feel Sokka moving. 

Feeling Sokka move around inside him is enough to stop his keening, partly for the shock of the feeling, and partly for the knowledge that, at least for now, Sokka is okay. 

Sokka clearly notices his sudden silence, saying "Oh. Can, uh, can you hear me?" and Zuko can’t stop himself from giving a small hysterical laugh through his sobbing. 

Sokka seems to take that as permission to crack terrible jokes, ones Zuko has heard over and over again, like “Hey, what’s black and white and red all over?” He starts, and Zuko thinks _a newspaper, but you’re going to say_ “A sunburned zebra!” _like you always do_. 

With each joke, he feels a little steadier, a little more like a real person even if he’s still crying, even as Sokka continues to move, feeling his way around Zuko’s insides. 

He can’t stop thinking about this, can’t stop thinking about how he can _feel_ every little motion. At some point Sokka goes quiet, stops moving, and he’s not – Zuko doesn’t think - _he’s fine,_ because he can still feel the movement of that tiny little breath – but it makes him think _I’m going to feel him die_ , which, you know, actually not great for his emotional state.

Considering that he’s just been sobbing – and is still crying somewhat – it’s not surprising that he gives a shuddering sob at this. And then he feels tiny hands bracing themselves, can feel Sokka still alive but that hardly helps when he’s stuck thinking of what he’s going to feel when he’s _not_. He sobs again, but Sokka just… starts rubbing, gently but forcefully, making sure that Zuko can feel it. When he speaks, his tone carries on the trend. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay, both of us, got it?” It helps, a little, along with the gentle feeling that reminds him that Sokka is still alive, still okay, but he’s hardly better.

Then Sokka says “Hey, let’s play 20 Questions. Sort of a meet-and-greet, you know?” and it comes so far out of left field, Zuko can’t help but sound his confusion. Again, Sokka takes any non-crying sound from him as reason to continue, asking about something as simple as Zuko’s gender. 

Then Sokka says his own name, and, _Zuko knows this._ He makes a sound to state this, that he already knows who Sokka is, because he wants to be more than the faceless stranger, wants to be known even in this moment.

Sokka is surprised by this, questions how he knows that, and Zuko feels some relief in at least being able to share this, share that he is not some unknown person and that Sokka isn’t alone. 

When he asks if Zuko was part of the investigative party, he feels almost excited as he hums his yes, that maybe he will be _known_ , as more than a faceless stranger. 

Sokka pauses for a long moment, and then just. “I… Zuko?” and he shudders from the relief, from being just this little bit less alone. After so much stress, he starts crying again, a little, but this time it’s from relief, not fear. 

“Oh.”

“Mhm.” He gets out, now falling into some kind of quiet hysterical mental laughter, the stress put off because he can’t deal with it for any longer without going insane, and after all, might as well, right?

There’s a long, awkward pause, where Sokka slowly slides farther down until he is laying flat on the floor, both of them sitting there with no idea what to say, until Sokka says “It’s actually not that bad in here, you know, impending death non-withstanding,” and how is he suppose to react to that? And he just ends up laughing, which jostles Sokka on the floor of his stomach, just a little, and he can hear Sokka laughing too, until Zuko gives a sob instead and has to calm himself down before this hysterical laughter turns into hysterical crying. 

“This is ridiculous! And impossible!” Sokka declares from his place on the floor. “I’m laying in my best friend’s gut! None of this makes scientific sense!” 

“Mhm.” He replies, _go on._

“This day is so stupid, I demand a refund! Give me something that makes sense. Something… reasonable. With a backing music track, if I’m getting days with plots out of b-rated movies.” Zuko can feel what is most likely him shaking his fist at this, like the many times he’s gotten deep into one of his rants.

“Speaking of poorly made movies, have you seen the trailer yet for that movie with the frog? It’s plain foolish…” It’s light, it’s unrelated, it’s distracting, it’s exactly what they both need. It’s surprisingly easy to fall into the same pattern that they have many other times in far less dangerous situations, of Sokka rambling about whatever new idea has caught his fancy while Zuko provides rare commentary on the subjects. It is… not as light, as it would be normally, because they can not fully escape the stress of the situation, but they are setting the stress aside, focusing on other things because to focus on the stress would be to drive themselves insane to no purpose. 

At some point after long talks of nothing at all, there is a natural lull in the conversation, one-sided as it is, and then Sokka says “It’s weird in here.”

 _How so?_ he wants to say, but simply makes an inquiring sound.

“Well, everything is very wet, for one, and hot, and dark, but also… The walls are incredibly squishy, and surprisingly soft and velvety.” He emphasizes there particular points by burying his hands deep in the walls of Zuko’s stomach, what must have been elbow deep, at least, to the effect of a very strange sensation for Zuko, on top of all the other strange things he’s felt so far today.

 _What else?_ he wants to ask, but must simply hope that Sokka gets it from another inquiring hum. He does, though, and goes on.

“There’s also some puddles of liquid here and there, and it’s hot, like stupidly hot and humid, but the weirdest part? It’s not really… that bad. It’s wet, yeah, but it’s warm, and soft, and… there’s something nice, about being able to hear you, know that you’re okay even though I’m…” and he trails off, avoiding the subject that they have now been dancing around since the two of them calmed down. 

Zuko can feel a faint flutter from Sokka’s head tilting back. “It’s just, I… I’m glad you’re here. That I can hear you here. That I can feel you’re here.” Sokka swallows thickly, voice getting quieter. Zuko can barely hear him. “If I’m going to… I’m glad… I’m glad I’m not alone. That it’s you.”

There’s a pause, but then. “Hey, I know you’ve played that new dating sim I showed you, what did you think of it?…” and they’re back to more lighthearted conversation, back to ignoring everything they can. 

Neither of them has any way of keeping track of the time, both apparently having been stripped of things like watches and phones, but after some time, after tears and one-sided conversations and long stretches of quiet, Sokka speaks up, in a hesitant voice. “I… I’ve been here a while, haven’t I?” 

Zuko hums in agreement. 

Sokka is laying flat, on the bottom of the space around him, and pauses for a moment, before continuing, in a faltering voice. “I… don’t know why, but, I’m not – I feel fine. Nothing… hurts, or anything. I… I’m fine, for now.” Zuko makes a soft sound again, an _I hear you,_ I’m here. 

They’re quiet then, for a while, silent with all the things they’ve said and all they can’t, before Sokka speaks up again, still in that quiet voice.

“It’s been a long day, today. I, I think I’m going to just. Take a nap. Get some sleep. I… Wake me if anything happens?” That last part is said with an almost teasing lit, sardonically, and Zuko gives a soft puff of laughter. _Will do,_ he thinks, giving a comforting sound of agreement.

Sokka turns on his side then, sinking into the flesh around him, and Zuko just… Holds himself still, then, feeling Sokka’s breathing slowly become deeper and longer, eventually settling into a much slower pace of sleep. He sits there, for some time, still held up by the ropes around him, and eventually, slowly, falls asleep as well.

~~~

Zuko wakes up to alarms going off, something happening in the facility he’s being held at. He’s not exactly able to tell why, or do anything, so he just sits there. 

Waiting.

He considers waking Sokka, since something is happening, but decides to let him sleep. He ignores the part of him that doesn’t want to try and wake Sokka for fear of what he might find. Everything is fine, and maybe if he tells himself that often enough, it will be true. 

After some eternity of waiting, he hears people outside, and then in a rush of activity, they’re breaking into the room. He’s not sure what he’s going to see, but there are barely words to express how happy he is when it’s people from the organization his team was working with for this op. The person who burst in calls out “Found one!” and then she walks over to him, looking at the mess of ropes keeping him pinned. 

Her first move is just ripping the tape off his mouth, which lets him finally take a deep breath like he hasn’t been able to for ages, gasping out a “Thank you.”

She’s moved her attention to the ropes, getting out a knife to start cutting through some. “No problem. Know anything about what they used this room for?” 

He shakes his head. “Not really. There was a woman here, with medical looking stuff, but I think this was pretty multi-functional.”

He pauses. “What’s it like out there?”

She grunts, having finished with the ropes around his chest and starting on an arm. “Calmer, but only because a lot of them got away. We’re going to be feeling this one for a while.” 

He can breath more deeply without ropes around him, and with the deeper breath comes a movement from inside, what feels like Sokka rolling over and wiggling to get comfortable, still asleep and _still alive._ It fills him with the sort of relief that has his almost collapsing, and as he focuses he thinks he can just make out the steady in and out of breathing, but the person helping him looks worried. 

“You okay?” She asks, but he just nods and sits back up again. 

“Yeah, just relieved to finally be out of that.”

“Cool.” She says, not sounding completely convinced, but goes back to work on the ropes. 

The next bit passes in little more than the sound of a knife cutting rope, but soon enough he’s free, able to move around once more. 

The very first thing he does with his new-found freedom is to use it to stretch, which has the added side-effect of causing Sokka to slide around, and wake him up completely. 

He makes a confused, drowsy noise, then “What’s going on out there?” Which has Zuko pausing for a moment before saying “Thank you for rescuing u – me, Agent…?” And then he looks to her for her name, and she replies “Sally. You’re welcome, now let’s get you out of here. You were part of the consulting unit, yes?” 

He nods.

Sokka makes a quiet sound of understanding, from inside.

“Okay, then, lucky you. The rest of your… group, is waiting nearby.” She starts out, radioing to share that she’s freed him, and is heading out now.

The next bit passes in a blur, as he gives a brief overview of what he can remember happening, but doesn’t mention Sokka or anything that happened with him. The shrinking technology is something highly classified, and random field grunts aren’t the people to go talking to it about. 

He gets through it, finally, and heads to where _his_ team is. Sokka is a comforting weight by now, sunk deep in the folds of his stomach to keep from being thrown about as Zuko walks. 

When he gets there, he’ll give the explanation, and there’ll be running around and getting Sokka out and testing of _how_ and _why_ everything happened that way, and they will all end up okay, but this one moment stolen between others? Not that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on Deviant Art under the same name for both story and author. I used the names Sokka and Zuko because those were the first ones I could think of when I first came up with this, but if I ever got the time or inclination to continue this I would change them, because this would be so heavily AU anyways and also I would feel too embarrassed. It’s supposed to take place in modern day, by the way.
> 
> Inspired by the singular concept of someone waking up, not knowing where they are, only to realize it’s a mouth when they’re swallowed. Also wish fulfillment for the rest, because I’ve wanted to see this situation of unwilling prey and pred when they both deeply trust each other, but someone else is forcing it for ages, but no one ever wrote it Exactly How I Wanted It, so I wrote it myself. Also how is this almost 7k halp.
> 
> I imagine that the story around this is very much like Peachnewt’s story on DeviantArt, Getting in Deep, which uh, if you like soft/safe g/t vore and haven’t read yet, what are you doing! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the only vore stories that you can actually buy in print, it’s amazing. Anyways so if you want to know backstory/what happens next, again I would write an original fic if I had the time or inclination but just. Imagine all that awesomeness, because it’s probably something like that, maybe.
> 
> Please forgive me any errors, (and feel free to point them out) as I did write and edit this entire thing over the course of three days, most of the time working in the wee hours of the morning. I’m possibly vibrating out of my body by now.
> 
> Happy Vore Day!
> 
> EDIT: You can now find me on tumblr under Vore-Rambles!  
> https://vore-rambles.tumblr.com/


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